


All The Great Men

by agerefandom (tazia101)



Category: Animaniacs, Pinky and the Brain
Genre: Brain is too hard on himself :(, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29443440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/agerefandom
Summary: Brain is tired and stressed: Pinky is just doing his best to help. (Reposted from tumblr)
Relationships: Brain & Pinky (Animaniacs)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	All The Great Men

_Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Charlemagne…_

Brain flipped through his favourite book, searching for a section that he hadn’t already memorized. The collection of famous conquerors was something he’d read over and over again, for almost as long as he could remember. It had been a hard week, full of failures, and there was something comforting about curling up with the same great men he’d studied all his life. _Tamerlane, Attila, Napoleon Bonaparte_ … Brain traced his hands over the names and pictures, tapping a claw on Napoleon’s hat.

Brain thought he would look nice with an official hat like that. He’d always imagined having a crown when he ruled the world, but perhaps a hat would be less chafing.

“Hey Brain!” _And speaking of chafing_ …

Pinky clambered up to the top of the cage, his tail winding around the bars to help him stay upright as he made his way towards Brain and his book. Brain glanced towards him and then back to his page. Pinky needed attention like a sunflower needed light, but Brain was busy. Let him watch television and eat cake, or whatever brain-dimming activities Pinky enjoyed when Brain was working.

“What’cha reading? Ugh, history again? Are you trying to take a nap?” Pinky climbed onto the book, walking over Attila’s face without noticing. Brain inhaled sharply, trying not to show his indignation.

“I’ve told you, Pinky, the study of history is instrumental to understanding the nature of human submission,” Brain said. Even thinking about trying to take over the world made him feel tired at the moment. But it was the one thing Pinky may understand.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Pinky complained, flopping down on the book so that his nose almost brushed against Brain’s. Brain flinched back automatically, unprepared for the contact. “Come on, Brain, I want to play a game.”

“I am busy.” Brain couldn’t turn the pages because Pinky was in the way, so he turned his attention to the page Pinky wasn’t currently obscuring with his body. He had read this book enough times to know most of it by heart, so it didn’t feel wrong to pick up halfway through the story of Attila’s invasion of the Byzantine Empire. “You can entertain yourself.”

“But Braaaaaiiiin,” Pinky whined. Brain glanced over just at the wrong time to see his large pleading stare. A light shone in the tearful gleam of Pinky’s eyes. He did look admirably pitiful, and Brain sighed. He was well aware that it was an act, but he couldn’t say no.

However, he did pinch Pinky’s nose first to make him stop those ridiculous eyes.

“Ow!” Pinky shrieked, rubbing the sore spot and pouting. “Does that mean you’ll come play?”

“If it is the only way to get you off my _very important_ readings, then yes, Pinky, I will come ‘play,’” Brain said, snapping the book closed. Pinky narrowly avoided being squished by the cover, darting to one side and snatching his tail out of the pages just in time. “What idiotic scheme have you concocted today?”

“Well, I thought that you could make up the game today, Brain!” Pinky clambered onto the closed book and sat on the edge with his feet dangling in the air. “You never like my ideas, so I wanted you to decide what we did!”

“I decide what we do every evening,” Brain sighed. The thought of making more decisions was exhausting.

“Yeah, but that’s _work_. What do you like to do for fun??”

“I like to read, Pinky.” Brain gave a significant look at the pages that Pinky was currently kicking his feet against.

“Reading _is_ fundamental,” Pinky said, in a voice that made it clear he was quoting something from the TV. “But you must like to play sometimes!”

“Playing is for children,” Brain muttered. “I do not ‘play,’ as you say.”

“But playing is fun!” Pinky looked genuinely upset by Brain’s opinion. “You can be anything you want to be! How can you not like to play?”

“You cannot simply ‘be anything you want to be,’ Pinky. It is just a fantasy. You will never be anything more than a laboratory mouse. And that is why there is no point in playing pretend,” Brain snapped. “It makes you lose track of reality, which is that we are trapped in this cage, and unless we can change that, we will be trapped here forever.”

They could escape at night, of course, but there were trackers in their blood that Brain hadn’t yet managed to isolate. Come the morning, they were either in their cage, or they were caught and punished. There were no other options.

Brain turned away from his friend, drawing his knees up against his chest. He missed the days when his tail was flexible, an extra comfort that he could wrap around himself. Now it was permanently jagged, painful to touch. Just another piece of how the labs had changed him, taken away what he’d been.

“Brain…” Pinky’s voice came from behind him, soft and tearful. He upset Pinky again. That was fine, Pinky would forget all about the argument in a few minutes. He always did.

Sure enough, Brain only took three deep breaths before he heard Pinky scrabbling back into the cage. _Good riddance_ , he told himself, but he could already feel the tears prickling his eyes. _Stupid weakness_. He rubbed his arm across his eyes impatiently, tears dampening his fur. _You’re not a baby. Get a hold of yourself._

Time stretched, and Brain struggled. He refused to let himself cry, but the tears wouldn’t stop welling up. He sat in denial, unwilling to admit to the dampness he felt on his cheeks. He wished Pinky had never interrupted his reading. It had been safe in that book, with all its familiar characters of the past.

Brain didn’t know how many minutes had passed when he heard Pinky coming back. He’d probably forgotten about their fight, and was coming again to try and pull Brain into an ill-considered activity. But Pinky’s first words were a surprise.

“I’m sorry, Brain.”

Brain couldn’t turn to give Pinky an incredulous look, all too aware of the tears still weighing down the fur on his face. He could still feel the confusion twist his expression as he kept his head down. What was Pinky apologizing for, without any prompting?

“I didn’t know you thought all that. That we were trapped, and everything.” Pinky’s footsteps got closer. “I didn’t mean to push the playing, I just… it’s fun, you know? And you should have fun, Brain! It makes me sad when you’re all grumpy and tired.” _That’s a fair description_ , Brain admitted to himself with a touch of humour. “Anyways, I brought you some cake. It always makes me feel better when I’m upset.”

Pinky’s arm came into view, holding a dainty white plate with the forementioned piece of cake. It wiggled slightly in front of Brain’s nose, the fork almost sliding off. To save the cutlery from falling back into the cage, Brain accepted the plate, holding it in front of himself. Although he didn’t turn to look, he could feel Pinky sit down beside him.

There was a moment of peaceable silence, and Brain considered eating the cake. It was clearly an olive branch, and although he didn’t particularly feel like sweets, it would be the polite thing to eat it once it had been accepted.

“Are you crying?” Pinky asked abruptly, pushing a finger into the sodden fur of Brain’s cheek. “Did I do that?”

“No, Pinky, it’s my allergies,” Brain said, shifting away from the contact. “Nothing to do with you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Pinky said, his voice rising. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, Brain, honestly I didn’t! I just wanted to have fun with you! I wanted you to pick a game!” His arms wrapped around Brain, holding him tight. 

Brain froze, unsure of what to do. The cake in his hands made him unable to push Pinky away… or to return the affectionate gesture. The only thing he could do was sit and tolerate the embrace, for as long as Pinky desired.

It was nice, if Brain was to be honest. Pinky was always the softer of the two of them, keeping up with grooming and even seeking out products for his fur. The hug was tight and warm and maybe even a little bit comforting. Brain realized that he was leaning slightly against Pinky, a wordless acceptance of the affection.

“Thank you for the cake,” Brian mumbled. Pinky squeezed his arms around Brain, pulling him even closer and nuzzling his cheek against Brain’s.

“Any time, NARF! Any time at all.”

The two of them sat there, Brain holding a plate of uneaten cake and Pinky holding Brain. This was better than the book, Brain admitted to himself. This felt… restful. Perhaps playing wouldn’t be so bad, after all.


End file.
